


For the Greater Good

by ACatWhoWrites



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Magic, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, community: exolliarmus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-06-30 05:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: Baekhyun's job as an Auror gets more difficult when he hears rumors of Gellert Grindelwald's army in Asia.





	For the Greater Good

**Author's Note:**

> prompt no.70

Baekhyun is still working during an afternoon at home, charming the furniture to move so he can clean beneath them, when he hears someone calling his name. It's far away, muffled, but he follows it to the handheld mirror on his bedside table. Turning it over, he sees his parents. 

“Oh! There you are, dear,” his mother greets. She looks tired; he doesn't remember quite so many wrinkles around her eyes, and his dad's mustache is looking more gray than black. “Did we wake you?”

“It's the middle of day. I should be asking why you're still awake.” His parents are aurologists, working in New York. “Have you found anything more?”

His father shakes his head. “Not since you were called back. We can tell he was here for a long while—auras linger—but it's fading. What we're finding more of are his followers.”

“They're growing in number, Baekhyun, and they're mobile. The stock market crash is destroying morale here, and Grindelwald's followers are using the hopeless and instigating riots, causing chaos. The Obscurus's aura is only aiding them.”

“We still have work here, but your brother has gone to Europe. Germany is trying to rebuild itself, and a fascist group calling itself the National Socialist German Workers' Party is in control. They follow a racial hierarchy, with the Aryan race at the top of the food chain. It's just the kind of environment and mentality Grindelwald wants, so Baekbom's searching for him there.”

“Have you talked to him recently?”

“A couple days ago. He's safe and working with the German Ministry of Magic.”

“How are you holding up, honey?” his mother asks. “Is Chanyeol home, yet?”

“Not yet. There are more and more riots, though. I'm worried about his family. There's no military presence where they live, and most of the land is owned by Japanese.”

Both of his parents look passed the mirror; someone is talking to them. “We need to go, Baekhyun. _You be careful_ , okay?”

He grins. “Always am. Talk to you soon. I love you.” He replaces the mirror on the table and finds he doesn't have the energy to keep cleaning.

Scrap paper covered in notes and doodles as well as a newspaper from that morning are still waiting for him on the coffee table, headlines eagerly growing in size to push others out of the way. He makes a pot of coffee and plays a jazz record he brought back from the United States.

It only feels like a few minutes have passed when Baekhyun hears footsteps stop outside of the apartment. Chanyeol isn't due back for a day or two; it must be Sehun.

Sehun hangs his hat and is shrugging off his coat when he spots Baekhyun on the sofa. He jumps, relaxing with a tired sigh. “You scared me—What're you doing sitting in the dark?”

Baekhyun's slow to respond. “Sorry.” He leans forward to turn on a lamp after pulling down the blind. “Have you heard the latest?” Sitting again, his hand rests on the newspaper. The man in the photo tries to avoid it and keep waving his banner. He casts a petrification charm on the whole paper, so the images stop moving and titles stop trying to jump out.

“About what?” Sehun sits on the arm of his chair and leans over to read.

“You remember the incident in Wanpaoshan, with the irrigation ditch.” It was considered a minor incident at the time. The village is in Manchuria, alongside the Itung River. A group of Korean workers subleased a large tract of land from a local Chinese broker and prepared to irrigate by digging a ditch several kilometers long. They not only dug land included in their lease but land occupied by local Chinese farmers, as well. Understandably, the Chinese farmers were upset, and they complained to local authorities, resulting in a call to cease construction until a joint Chinese-Japanese investigation was completed.

In the meantime, the Imperial Japanese Consul sent Japanese consular police to protect the Koreans. Before the investigation even began, some four hundred Chinese farmers drove the Koreans away and filled in as much of the ditch as they could. The police dispersed the farmers without casualties, and they remained until the ditch and Itung River dam were completed.

It wasn't that intense of a situation, but both Japanese and Korean newspapers sensationalized the event, leading to even greater anti-Chinese sentiment. That's only gotten worse in the last few weeks.

“Oh,” Sehun hums, turning the page to read the rest of the article. “Another riot. I think Joonmyun hyung is in Pyongyang... It says people have died.”

“ _Chinese_ people have died, and the people are accusing the Japanese authorities of not protecting the lives and property of the Chinese residents and allowing the sensationalized articles about the Wanpaoshan incident to be published. Which, let's be honest, is probably the case. This is all benefiting the Japanese by giving the public a different target to focus their resentment rather than focusing on the occupation of imperialism." 

Hatred of each other has risen dramatically lately. Every day, there are more reports and rumors about anti-Chinese and anti-Korean riots and massacres racking up body counts accumulating in the thousands. Baekhyun can't even get a break from the No-Majs' negativity and bloodshed at work. Just last week, he'd read about the riots in the New York Ghost; there are talks of the magical community getting involved, although that would break the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

And while his home is tearing itself apart because of the occupation and supposedly trying to heal from the war, the west is dealing with its own tyrants in both the magical and non-magical worlds.

Baekhyun has been working in cooperation with the American MACUSA and British Ministry of Magic to find members of Gellert Grindelwald's so-called army. Their actions are partly hidden by the politics outside the wizarding community, making Baekhyun's job even harder.

He's brought out of his thoughts by a dry kiss to his forehead. Sehun smiles fondly. “You'll get a headache if you think too hard. At least don't frown so much; you'll get wrinkles.” He flinches and laughs when Baekhyun smacks his thigh. “Is Chanyeol coming home tonight?”

“I don't think so. His last letter said he should be back tomorrow or the day after.” Chanyeol's been at the Park family farm, one of the few families still owning their own land, to help out while his cousins are working in Japan. In his letter, he'd expressed his concern with the local girls disappearing. When he asked about them, their families wouldn't tell him anything or outright lied. He hopefully suggested Baekhyun looking into it, if he had the time, because Baekhyun told them he was a police officer.

Which isn't entirely wrong. Aurors are a lot like the police.

He's exhausted. Traveling by Portkey multiple times a week is uncomfortable enough within the country, but international traveling makes Baekhyun sick. After a minute or two of shifting and sighing, he nuzzles into Sehun's side and falls asleep with Sehun's leg hooked over his.

 

 

The clock's hands point to a bleary 3:12.

Baekhyun squints until they focus and slowly recognizes the smell of mint. The mug of tea he makes every night sits on the bedside table, painted with a bald eagle clutching a wand in one foot and a snake in the other. It's shaking the snake impatiently, crying out silently. He'd cast a spell to keep it quiet when it had woken Chanyeol one night. He'd thought something had broken into their apartment and nearly had a heart attack out of fear.

Baekhyun gets up on an elbow and waves a hand over the mug, cooling it again.

The movement bothers Sehun, who shifts to turn his head on Baekhyun's hip and hug his waist, settling again with a sigh. He wakes up a bit more when Baekhyun runs his fingers through his hair, humming.

“Sorry, Sehunnie,” Baekhyun says softly. “I'm being called in.”

“Now?” Sehun lifts his head to squint at the clock beside the bed. “It's not even dawn. What the hell?”

“I said to call me any time, day or night...” Baekhyun pushes at Sehun's shoulders until he rolls off of him, stretching out in the coolness of the sheets. “You know how it is...”

“That's just something people say but don't actually mean,” he yawns. “Life of a soldier, though, I guess.”

“I _do_ mean it.” Baekhyun pulls on some pants and grabs a shirt from the closet. “I'll be back soon. Just go back to sleep.”

“Now that my bed warmer's gone?”

Baekhyun kisses him. “Just hug a pillow; you'll be fine.” Baekhyun pockets his wallet and drapes his jacket over his arm. “I'll see you later. If I'm not back by noon, feed Eopsin, okay?”

Sehun whines and stretches, dreading dealing with Baekhyun's pet rat snake, no matter how many times he's assured Eopsin does not eat people. It's like she understands human speech, paying rapt attention when Baekhyun talks to her. If that's not creepy enough, she eats everything whole—rats, birds, even eggs.

“Come back soon, hyung,” Sehun pleads. The bedroom door closes, and it's quiet. He doesn't even hear the front door.

It's not as comfortable sleeping alone. Even in the barracks, he had a number of other bodies nearby, noisy with the sounds of sleep. He can't even go to Chanyeol's room for company. His own room is probably chilly; he hasn't had time to fix the crack along the window.

He wonders, sometimes, if it really is work that takes Baekhyun away at all hours of the day and night. He'd tried talking to Chanyeol about it, once, and his theory was Baekhyun was actually not a cop but a gangster. Eventually, they'd agreed that both theories are ridiculous, but they really just agreed to not mention them again and trust Baekhyun as much as they can.

Baekhyun overheard the conversation via a couple of gossipy portraits sitting on a high shelf. They had been there since Baekhyun bought the place; he's not even sure who they are.

The early morning call is a meeting to check in and report. If things weren't so hectic, he could've just sent an owl and stayed in bed, but the higher-ups pushed to require in-person reports.

He's back home within the hour, stripping down to his underwear and tugging his pillow out of Sehun's grip to take its place.

Sehun sleeps late when he can; Baekhyun makes breakfast and burns the magic newspapers. Regular ones can be used for kindling, insulation, wrapping and not be questioned.

Keys clink against the lock, and Sehun's beside the door as though he'd apparated, pulling Chanyeol inside and pushing him against the wall. His elbow catches the door, slamming it shut.

Chanyeol laughs breathlessly and hugs Sehun's waist. “Miss me, did you?”

“Not as much as I thought, now that you're here.” Sehun can be like a temperamental cat, sometimes. Awake or asleep in an instant and hot or cold at the drop of a hat. Chanyeol catches him before he can stalk away and pushes his hat back on his head to kiss Sehun until his tantrum passes. “I missed you, too, Sehun.”

“Good.” He slips around to cling to Chanyeol's back and hinder him as much as possible. They're all used to it; Chanyeol ignores him and leans over Baekhyun to kiss his cheek.

“I missed you, too, Baek.” He tilts his head to browse the papers strewn about the table. “How goes crime solving?”

“Slow. We didn't expect you until later.”

“I got an earlier ride. I wanted to get home as soon as I could.” Chanyeol points to a page of scribbles Baekhyun had been working on. “What's this? You picking up a new hobby?” Chanyeol scoffs. “Weird. What is it?”

Baekhyun snatches the paper back and closes it into the pages of a book. “My drawing skills have no bearing; it's a part of my investigation.”

“Does it involve gangs? I know,” he talks over Baekhyun's spiel, “that you can't reveal specifics. National security or fate of the world—I appreciate your service and sacrifice—but it looks a lot like something I saw on the way home.”

“Like what?”

Chanyeol pulls out the sketch paper again and points to the middle, to a doodle of a triangle enclosing a circle, then an oval, and a final straight line bisecting the whole symbol. 

The mark of Grindelwald's army.

“Where?” He grabs Chanyeol's arms, holding him in place. “Where _exactly_ , Chanyeol?”

“I-I'm sorry, Baek; I don't remember.”

“ _Think_. It's important.”

“Well, it was maybe half an hour after we passed that last gate, the one still standing? They were handing more posters; it's probably covered, now.”

Baekhyun surges to his feet, writing the vague description and stuffing it into his pocket. “I've gotta go. I'll see you both later.” He kisses them both and leaves in such a hurry he forgets his keys. By the time Sehun grabs them and follows him into the hall, he's gone.

There's a group of thick trees in a small park near the ministry in Keijo, known locally as Gyeongseong, that allows for privacy for emergency apparition. It hurts a lot more than using a Portkey. Baekhyun really wishes the ministry would join the Floo Network, although few homes in Asia had fireplaces that could handle transportation.

The Korean Ministry of Magic is a squat, western-style building. Since the annexation treaty, the Japanese have made themselves to home, importing their technology and demolishing the ancient Hanyangdoseong and its gates from the perimeter of the city. Within Baekhyun's lifetime, the landscape of his home as changed greatly. He does appreciate the paved roads as he jogs from the park to the steps of the inconspicuous-looking building.

He definitely doesn't miss the mud and heaps of horse manure.

A doorman greets him at the top of the short steps. “Hello, sir. Another early morning.”

“Not as early as some,” Baekhyun replies, flashing his badge. He waves to the tabby cat at the doorman's feet. The doorman bows and opens the door by pushing where the door appears to be hinged.

Inside is alive and busy, despite the early hour. Men and women in suits and dresses rush over the floors, dancing around one another with nothing but their own problems on their minds as dokkaebi scurry underfoot, sometimes typing shoelaces or causing a breeze to disrupt papers or skirts.

Baekhyun nearly walks into a man carrying a stack of papers so tall they brush the underside of the light fixtures, but each dislodged page eagerly catches up with the stack and lies atop it again.

He's waiting by a bank of elevators when he hears someone calling his name and looks over his shoulder as someone else starts shouting.

“ _Kim!_ Get that thing out of here!”

Kim Jongdae, a wizarding naturalist with a reputation for weirdness, waves with a cheerful smile, seemingly oblivious to the awed and nervous looks to the creature tethered to his belt. “Working on it, Ambassador! I'm just passing through on my way to—”

“I don't care where you're going, just _go_.” Jongdae salutes, and the harried diplomat retreats to hera dragon, the antlers of a deer, the skin and scales of a fish, the hooves of an ox and tail of a lion office.

“Every time I'm here, she goes out of her way to see me. Maybe I should ask her out for tea.”

“I think she'd rather drink kuding than go out with you.” Baekhyun looks up and tries to avoid eye contact; he once got stuck in a staring contest with a very unusual monkey for five hours. “Who's your new friend?”

“I call him Yixing. He's a qilin I bought off a man I met down south.” The qilin has the reptilian head of a dragon with tall antlers, a scaly body and long legs, hoofed feet, and a long tail like a lion's. His scales glimmer red, like multiple precious stones. Jongdae pats his side, and Yixing turns to him, sniffing and blowing his hair. “I'm taking him home, but I have to get clearance, first.”

“He'll be glad to be home.” Baekhyun laughs as Yixing leans close, breathing hotly over his face and neck.

The elevator doors open, and the car expands to allow the three of them inside. A dokkaebi mans the elevator panel, and Baekhyun kicks their leg from beneath them before they can even challenge them to a match.

“International Mythical and Magical Affairs Departments.”

“And A.B.C.-D.I.E. please.” The Animal, Beast, and Creature Division of Importation and Exportation isn't as deep as the office of the Head of International Affairs. As the elevator lurches to motion, Yixing stomps his hooves and earns a dirty look from the dokkaebi. Probably because it possesses a floor tile and has already spent much of its life underfoot.

“Speaking of late,” Jongdae remarks, “isn't it late, even for you? Did something happen?”

Baekhyun lowers his voice. “Chanyeol said he saw Grindelwald's mark.”

“What, _here?_ ” Yixing nudges him, apparently worried.

“It's what I hope to find, but I have to report even a rumor.”

“They'll want to know who told you.”

“A stranger told me in passing. Some guy complaining about Chinese kids painting walls.”

Jongdae looks worried. He's met both Sehun and Chanyeol; he likes them. “Maybe you should go investigate first... If it's true, no one will care so much about where you learned about it. You could even say you found it yourself.”

“I can't not follow the rules, Jongdae. Not again.”

“Just think about Chanyeol and Sehun and what this could mean... Your relationship is already very close to violating the statute.” By the seventeenth century, any witch or wizard who so much as said 'hello' to No-Majs was suspected and ostracized, if not persecuted.

Baekhyun thinks back to the newspaper, an innocent, everyday thing, but if Sehun saw the moving photographs and asked about them, that would be a direct violation. “They're no danger to community. I'm not just going to Obliviate them and pretend like nothing happened.”

“That's not your call, Baek.” The elevator jolts to a stop that even years of experience can't stop the sharp bend of their knees.

“Well, it _should be_. Dae—You _know_ them. They're...not the brightest.” Neither are dumb, by any means, but they're not entirely present-minded. Point and say _”Look, a distraction!”_ and they'll look.

“ _I.M.M.A.D._ ” the dokkaebi announces.

“I know how you feel, but things are too dangerous right now in our world and theirs.”

Baekhyun snorts. “It's that mentality that's driving everyone to war.”

“And _that remark_ is exactly what Grindelwald wants to hear.” His scowl melts to concern. “I just don't want you to get hurt or see them dragged into this. Be careful.”

“You, too.” Baekhyun pets Yixing's nose and steps out of the elevator car. The doors nearly close on the back of his jacket, and the elevator rockets to its next stop.

The hall is long and doorless except for the very end. Baekhyun takes his time walking towards it, thinking of what he's going to say. It's not much better than a rumor, and his witness isn't a witch or wizard; Chanyeol may have seen a part of something bigger that's totally innocent or completely misinterpreted it.

Everything has to be investigated, though. That's Baekhyun's job.

He raises a hand to knock, but the door opens on its own. His boss is a kind-looking man with silver hair and more wrinkles every time Baekhyun sees him.

“Mr. Lee, _Grindelwald's army has reached Korea_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not so much fluff, unfortunately. Once I set it in the time period I did, if just couldn't stay as light and fluffy as I would have liked. I tried keeping things accurate to the early 1930s. The Korean peninsula was still one nation, under Japanese rule. They did not have a good relationship with China due to the treatment of Korean migrants in Manchuria. In the magical community, Europe and the U.S. were hunting Grindelwald and his army after his escape from the M.A.C.U.S.A.
> 
> And I will readily admit my Harry Potter-world knowledge is very lacking, and my creativity even moreso. So if anyone has acronym suggestions, please suggest away.


End file.
